


Shadow and Light

by ClassicCrime



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-09 08:49:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11665707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassicCrime/pseuds/ClassicCrime
Summary: Rebekah had always believed that she would live out her days at Kinloch Hold, just a simple mage with the gift of ice and lightning magic. She never imagined that she would one day lead the Inquisition. She certainly never expected to find love amidst the chaos, especially not with the Templar that had once called for the annulment of her circle. Now, she must navigate her way through political intrigue, magical manipulation, and war. This journey will certainly change her, the question is who will she have become when the Breach is finally closed?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story can also be found on fanfiction.net under the same title and author name. Updates of this story will be every Friday.

  **Prologue**

In her first moments of awareness, all Rebekah could sense was a dull, aching pain. The muscles of her back and every joint of her spine screamed in agony, her knees pulsing in a slow rhythm, her legs so thoroughly asleep that she could no longer feel them beneath her.

_What's happened to me?_

She began to sway back and forth as consciousness returned, wincing as her muscles protested the movement after being held in the same position for so long. She blinked her eyes slowly, the dim light making it difficult to see her surroundings. She could see the manacles locked around her wrists, could feel the cold bite of the metal against the skin of her right wrist, the skin of the left betrayed nothing having lost any capabilities of feeling long ago.

She could feel the biting cold of the stones beneath her even through her thick mage robes and the air bit in her lungs as she inhaled. Beneath all of the sensory information swarming her at that one moment, was a stinging sensation on the skin of her left palm. At first, she had barely noticed it, but as she regained awareness, the light tingling had developed into a thousand pinpricks, like little insect bites.

Rebekah winced in pain, her brows furrowing, and suddenly the skin of her palm erupted in a visual cacophony of green light. A gasp of surprise escaped her lips, the stinging pain subsiding to a pulsing thrum that was equal parts painful and pleasant.

Suddenly, a door slammed open, and instinctively, Rebekah closed her hands into fists and straightened her back.

Two silhouettes were framed in the doorway. Rebekah couldn't make out much, besides the longsword swaying from the hip of the person to her right. As they passed into the ring of ground surrounded by the torchlight, Rebekah could finally make out the features of two women. It was also at that moment that she realized she had been circled by four guards, swords pointing straight at her.

Metal sang as the guards placed their swords back in their scabbards and the two women came closer, the one with the longsword circling behind her.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now?" The woman's voice was harsh, with a slight Nevarran accent. Her breath was hot on Rebekah's ear and she twisted her head away to escape the sensation.

Rebekah furrowed her brows in confusion, looking at the hooded woman in front of her for some sign of what had happened, some clue as to why she was shackled in this dungeon like a common criminal. How had she gotten here? Where was here?

"I don't underst…." Rebekeah began, but was cut off by the woman behind her as she paced.

"The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead," the woman said, matter-of-factly, her tone cold. She came back into view, her steps slow and measured, her longsword swinging back and forth as she walked. "Except for you."

"Destroyed?" Rebekah's mind was racing, her heart sinking. She had joined her fellow Enchanters and journeyed to the Conclave, but she had no concept of how long she had been in the dungeon since then.

They had arrived only a day before the official talks were to begin and Rebekah had excused herself to explore the fortress that had once held the sacred ashes of Andraste. The last thing she could remember was walking up an impressive staircase, a statue of Andraste before her.

As she raked her brain for memories of the Conclave, she began to remember something. A dream that she must have been having before waking up in the dungeon.

Her confusion was made plain in the tone of her voice. "That can't be right."

Before Rebekah could react, the woman reached forward, grasping Rebekah by the wrist and holding up the hand that had emitted that glowing green light only moments before.

And just as before, a sudden stinging sensation began to grow as a surge of green light began to emanate from her palm.

"Explain this," the woman growled, seeming to scowl at the unnatural glow before throwing the offensive appendage back at the prisoner.

"I can't," Rebekah replied after a moment, her hand tightening into a fist.

It had to be magic, that much Rebekah thought obvious, but it was nothing like her natural abilities. Rebekah had entered the Circle when she was ten and had over a decade of training in the magical arts. She knew the feel of her own magic, its capabilities, strengths and weaknesses. Whatever power was held in her palm was not natural and not hers.

"What do you mean you can't?" The woman shouted at her accusatorially, and both women began to pace in circles around Rebekah.

Rebekah's heart was crashing in her chest, her fear began to grow stronger. As with other times of strong emotion, she began to hear the whispers of the demons as they attempted to reach her through the veil and she closed her eyes to shut them out.

"I don't know what that is. Or how it got there," Rebekah replied, her tone pleading with these mystery women to believe her.

"You're lying!" Her interrogator growled, snapping forward and grasping Rebekah by her shoulders.

Rebekah could see the anger and rage in this woman's steel gray eyes, and she reflexively flinched away from the woman's touch.

It was then that the hooded woman stepped forward, touching the other woman on the shoulder and pushing her back. "We need her, Cassandra." The hooded woman said, turning briefly to look back at Rebekah and she would have sworn that she saw pity in the woman's eyes.

"Please, someone tell me what's going on," Rebekah tried to keep her voice neutral, but she couldn't stop the undertone of fear from showing in the trembling of her voice. "How was the Conclave destroyed? All of those people can't just be gone."

"You don't remember what happened?" The hooded woman asked as she came forward. Rebekah could see a hint of short red hair peeking from beneath the gray hood of the woman's cape.

"Obviously not!" Rebekah bit back, recoiling at her own harsh tone. "The last thing I remember is walking up the stairs of the Temple."

The other woman, Cassandra, came from behind Rebekah again and herded the hooded woman to the door. "Go to the forward camp, Leliana." A thrill of shock went through Rebekah as the name left the woman's lips.

_Leliana, the Leliana?_

They both looked back at Rebekah, eyes full of accusation. "I will take her to the rift," Cassandra said, and their eyes met. With the briefest of nods, Leliana left the room, not even sparing the prisoner a second glance.

"Can someone please tell me what happened?" The fear was quickly giving way to anger as confusion over her situation mounted.

Cassandra quickly walked forward, grasping the shackles in her hands and unlocked the manacles. As the iron clattered to the floor, Rebekah instinctively began to rub her wrists as she stood.

"It will be easier to show you."


	2. Chapter 1

~~****~~ **Chapter 1**

The Breach. That was what Seeker Cassandra had called the green tear through the sky. It loomed above them all as Rebekah and Cassandra made their trek up the mountain to the forward camp.

Rebekah walked the paths as if in a daze, unable to process what had occurred.

Dead. They're all dead. Her thoughts continued on a loop as her eyes scanned the desolate wasteland. She could not recognize where she was when compared to the path she had walked only days before.

Soldiers were everywhere. Refugees gazed towards her with hostility as she passed.

"They have decided your guilt," Cassandra had said to her as they walked away from the Chantry, "they need it."

 _Could it truly have been me?_  Rebekah pondered.

Even though her very soul rejected the thought, Rebekah could not refute it. She could not recall any memories after she had walked up the steps of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. That was a great deal of time unaccounted for. If she could not remember, then perhaps she had blocked it out. But still a "why" remained.

Why would an unknown Enchanter from a Circle comprised of mostly Aequitarians attend the Conclave only to destroy it? How could any one person doom all in attendance to this fate? And how would any mage accomplish such a feat?

Rebekah had no answers to these questions. The only response was the glaring green light in her hand that pulsed in unison with the tear in the sky. Even a child could see that the mark and the Breach came from the same magic, but how had the mark come to be placed upon Rebekah?

"I'll do whatever I can to help, Seeker," had been Rebekah's only response to these accusations. With those words, they began their journey up the mountain to the center of the Breach.

"How is it that you came to be here?" Cassandra inquired as they walked through the gates.

"I came as an emissary for the Kinloch Hold circle, along with others," Rebekah replied, her eyes darting between Seeker Cassandra and the Breach behind her.

"So, you're Ferelden then?" Cassandra continued.

"Yes. Originally from Denerim, but I've lived at the Circle tower for a majority of my life," Rebekah said as they rounded a bend in the path. Ahead of them loomed a bridge, the lake beneath it frozen solid.

Cassandra merely nodded at the response as the two began crossing the bridge.

Neither woman had much time to react as streak of green light barreled into the stone bridge. The stones began to wobble and break apart, a great crack resounded as the bridge collapsed. Cassandra and Rebekah tumbled to the frozen lake below.

Rebekah rolled atop the rubble, her already aching knees colliding with stone. She winced as she came to a stop on the lake, cradling an elbow.

"What was that?" She shouted to Cassandra, but no response came. Rebekah rose to her feet, noting that Cassandra did the same beside her.

Rebekah stood in shock as a glowing orb streaked through the sky, slamming into the ledge in front of them before blasting into the frozen surface of the lake. A dark mass emerged from the crater, growing in height and stretching its arms as if waking from a deep slumber.

 _Shade_. Rebekah's instincts screamed.

"Stay behind me!" Cassandra roared, her longsword singing as it was unsheathed.

Cassandra surged forward to engage the shade, leaving Rebekah behind her. Cassandra didn't seem to notice that a second spot in the lake had begun to glow.

Rebekah readied herself, feeling that ever-present hum of magic growing as she called to it.

As the shade burst from the ice, Rebekah threw her arms forward envisioning the bolt of lightning streaking across the empty space to strike down her foe.

She felt her magic surge within her, could see the angry purple sparks dancing between her fingers as her magic unleashed itself. The lightning struck home, burrowing into the shade's chest, its entire body streaking with purple light.

Rebekah primed for another strike, her actions slowed without the use of a staff as her focus point. She called for a winter wind, cold enough to freeze a man solid.

The wind before her turned white, the temperature plummeting as the spell flew towards the demon. She heard the crackling as the wind solidified the shade's limbs, its body locking up.

With one final spell, Rebekah called forth a ball of pure energy and sent it hurtling towards the shade. As the ball of blue light collided with the demon, it began to splinter, cracks appearing from the point of impact and tracing up before the demon completely shattered and disintegrated.

Cassandra walked back towards her, completely composed despite the battle. She hardly nodded at Rebekah as she began walking up the embankment and back onto the path.

* * *

" _At least I know I can help."_  Rebekah thought gratefully to herself as she peered at her left palm, the mark hidden beneath her skin.

Two new companions had joined her and Cassandra as they had continued to the forward camp. Varric, a rugged dwarf with a crossbow that he had named Bianca, and Solas, an elven mage who seemed to have some knowledge about the magic behind the Breach and the rifts that it had created.

Rebekah had not thought that it could get any worse, until she had seen the first rift. While the demons that had attacked her and Cassandra on the lake had shot directly from the Breach, rifts were mini-tears in the fade that spewed demons. According to Solas, these rifts had been reported as far East as Redcliff, and more sightings were reported every day.

It was from Solas that Rebekah had learned that the explosion that destroyed the Conclave occurred three days prior, and she had been unconscious for a majority of that time.

"The mark took its toll," Solas explained to her as they walked. "For a time, we were unsure whether you would survive. I studied the mark as you slept and did my best to keep you alive, along with another mage."

"Thank you," Rebekah responded, her gaze finally lifting from her hand to meet Solas' grey eyes. "For ensuring that it didn't take my life."

"You are welcome," He replied pleasantly, a light smile gracing his lips as they continued.

The further their journey took them, the more carnage graced their path.

The group dispatched a number of demons and Rebekah became slightly more familiar with the usage of the mark. However, she did not become accustomed to the dead men and women who were strewn in the snow.

"Are you alright?" Varric had asked after the third rift, noticing Rebekah's complexion growing increasingly pale. She felt feverish and jittery, her hands shaking at her sides.

She struggled to swallow past the lump in her throat and gave Varric a noncommittal nod. "Fine," she replied, her voice hollow.

It had been a long time since Rebekah had seen a dead body. While many mages had been subject to great violence since the circles had rebelled, the Kinloch Hold circle had remained relatively peaceful. Rebekah had not seen such bloodshed since Uldred's uprising and she actively kept thoughts of those days from her mind, but they came flooding back to her as they made their way up the mountain.

It felt like she had been walking for days, her legs protesting her every movement, her already aching joints burning with the strain. Cassandra and Solas kept stride with each other up ahead, but Varric stayed at her side.

"First time?" He asked after a brief silence.

"What?" Rebekah replied, glancing briefly at him as they traversed a particularly steep incline.

"This your first time in a fight?" He asked again.

Rebekah turned her gaze on him fully prepared to lie, but upon seeing the sympathetic look on the dwarf's face she replied, "That obvious?"

"Nah. Not really," Varric flashed her a lop-sided grin.

"Technically it's not," she explained breathlessly as the path leveled out. "There was an uprising at my circle when I was a girl. Many people died. But, that doesn't mean that I ever got used to it."

"I don't think anyone ever 'get's used to it.' The one's who do aren't normal," he replied.

The distant sounds of screaming floated down to them and Rebekah saw Cassandra's posture grow more rigid. "Another rift! Get ready!" She shouted down to them. With a look back towards Varric, Rebekah began to pick up the pace.

* * *

" _How tall is this bloody mountain?"_  Rebekah thought to herself with a grimace as her gaze swept up at another steep incline. They had made a brief stop at the forward camp where they had been berated by some pompous Chancellor and now continued their trek towards the breach.

Leliana had been at the forward camp and Rebekah was relieved to discover that it was  _the_  Leliana. Rebekah was unsure whether Leliana would remember her or not, she had been so young when the Hero of Fereldan and her party had come to the circle. She had noticed Leliana's gaze resting on her as the group had talked and Rebekah had wanted to say something, but knew that it was not the time. It was a relief, however, to know one of the faces among the mass of people who surrounded her.

While at the forward camp, Solas had managed to find her a staff among the discarded weapons and Rebekah gripped it tightly in her hands now, the nicks and grooves feeling foreign in her hands.

It wasn't long before the distant sounds of screaming drew closer and Rebekah could see the angry green rift looming further ahead, her mark flaring to life.

"Maker, another one?" Varric sighed.

They jumped into the fray, assisting the soldiers as they combated the shades. Magic flew from Rebekah's staff and Rebekah began to feel the strain on her magic as she started to reach her limit.

No more demons surrounded them, and Rebekah moved to place the staff into the holster on her back.

Suddenly claws ripped up from the ground beneath her and a terror demon shot out of the ground, toppling her onto her back. Rebekah barely had time to scream as the great maw of the demon opened.

Just as quickly as the demon had appeared before her, suddenly a long sword appeared right in the center of the demons mouth. The tip of the sword dripped with black ichor, mere inches from Rebekah's nose.

The demon began to disintegrate, revealing an imposing man in full armor. He strode towards her, his hand outstretched. She slipped her hand in his, the leather sticking to the sweat on her skin.

"Quickly, we must close it!" Solas called, and Rebekah's attention drew to the rift as the green light undulated.

"Excuse me," Rebekah said to the man before slipping past him, her hand glowing green as she raised it towards the rift. As before, pure green energy erupted from the mark towards the center of the rift and Rebekah felt a great pulling sensation that travelled from her palm and up her arm, the pressure mounting before popping. The rift disappeared.

"Oh," she heard the man murmur behind her. "You're her then, the prisoner?" Rebekah nodded in confirmation without turning around to meet his gaze. "Well, I hope they're right about you. We've lost a lot of people getting you here."

 _Why does that voice sound so familiar?_  Rebekah thought to herself as she turned to face him.

"That makes two of us," she replied as Solas and Varric joined them.

"The way ahead should be clear. Leliana will meet you there," he explained to Cassandra, not meeting Rebekah's eyes again.

"Then we should move quickly," Cassandra said as she faced the group. "Give us time, Commander."

The Commander's expression turned grim as his soldiers filed past him to make the journey back down the mountain. "Maker watch over you. For all our sakes." His eyes met Rebekah's then, and again she was struck with the feeling of recognition, but couldn't quite place it.

"Let's keep moving," Cassandra sheathed her long sword once again and motioned the group towards a ledge. Below it, burning husks still crouched on the ground, mouths open in silent screams.

Rebekah could feel her stomach churning.

"If you're going to be sick, now might be the best time," Varric told Rebekah, his tone laced with that same sympathy he had shown her earlier.

"I'll be fine," Rebekah replied, taking a long swallow.

"First tip, don't breathe through your nose," he said to her before taking a step forward.

Rebekah immediately did as suggested.

The archway that had once been the entrance to the Temple of Sacred Ashes loomed before them, and as they walked they passed more bodies.

Some lay prostrate on the ground, mouths open with teeth scorched by the fire. Rebekah's right hand drifted to the cloth tied around her left wrist. She knew how their skin would feel against her hands, knew it because she touched something similar every day.

"Maker," she whispered to herself as they rounded the corner.

The Breach loomed before them: a massive rippling scar heaving above. It looked as if emerald crystals had formed at the center, shifting and growing as green light streaked across the clouds.

"The Breach is a long way up," Varric commented as he surveyed their surroundings.

"Will I even be able to reach it?" Rebekah mused, looking towards Solas.

He didn't get a chance to reply.

"You're here. Thank the Maker," Leliana's voice trilled behind them, as she strode towards their group.

"Leliana, have your men take up positions around the Temple." Cassandra replied without preamble. Leliana merely nodded before returning to the soldiers she had brought with her. "This is your chance to end this, are you ready?" Cassandra asked, coming back to stand in front of Rebekah.

"I'll try, but I don't know if I can reach it, much less close it." Rebekah replied, anxiety and adrenaline tying her stomach into knots and making breathing a bit harder.

"No," Solas said, shaking his head. "This rift is the first and it's the key. Seal it and perhaps we'll seal the Breach."

"Wait, just a moment," Rebekah began, her eyes widening, her tone incredulous. "That's not the Breach?" She pointed her hand towards the shifting green crystals.

Solas's eyes narrowed slightly. "No. This is the first rift that spawned from the Breach. That," he began, gesturing at the swirling vortex of clouds overhead, "is the Breach."

"Oh," Rebekah said dumbly, and she could feel herself deflating.

Cassandra's eyes narrowed as well. "Let's find a way down. Be careful."

"It's ok, kid," Varric said as he passed by Rebekah to follow Cassandra. "It was confusing for me at first too."

Rebekah closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her mouth. A million doubts swirled through her in that moment, along with the thought that this could be the end. She steeled herself as the fear washed over her, and the creeping voices of the demons became louder.

"Maker guide me," she whispered to herself and took another deep inhale. As she exhaled, she raised her eyes first to the rift, then to the Breach high above her. With one last prayer, Rebekah resolutely followed her companions down into the crater to close the rift.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_"Someone help me!"_

Rebekah was roused from her sleep by the memory, the voice of that woman calling to her in the rift. She still couldn't remember the events that had transpired, but it was clear to her that she had interrupted some nefarious plan that had ultimately led to the destruction of the Conclave.

The conversation had resounded through the crater under the rift as they had sought to close it. The Seeker had looked shocked to hear echoes of the past reverberating off of the stone, but Solas had seemed unsurprised.

Cassandra had known that voice, claimed that it had been Divine Justinia, calling out for help. When Rebekah's embodied voice had responded, Cassandra had whirled on her. She had assumed that this meant Rebekah had some knowledge of what had happened, but whatever memories had lingered in the rift were gone from Rebekah's mind. There was still a gap between when she had walked up the steps of the Temple and when she had woken in the dungeon.

Solas had explained to Rebekah that it was possible that she would never remember, that perhaps the instigator of these events had stolen them from her somehow.

Rebekah rose from the bed, throwing her legs over the side and resting her bare feet on the rug that covered the cold stone floor of her hut. She ran a hand through her light brown hair with a great sigh.

It had been days since she had repaired the first rift and her body and magic still ached from the strain it had put on her. The effort to close the rift so soon after battle had left her magic completely drained, her body not far behind.

She had collapsed, right there in the crater beneath the Breach. Her companions had feared the worst, but Rebekah had survived.

For days she had laid in that bed, going in and out of consciousness, barely managing to eat. Sometimes she would awake and find someone sitting on a stool next to her bed, more often than not it was Solas.

The door creaked open softly and Rebekah tilted her head in order to see her visitor. It was a thin elven woman with short brown hair carrying a wooden crate. The woman did not look up at first, smiling to herself. When she did look up and noticed Rebekah awake and staring at her, her expression immediately changed.

"Oh," she gasped, the wooden crate tumbling from her arms and clattering onto the floor. "I didn't know you were awake, I swear."

"It's alright," Rebekah replied, her tone soft and her voice raspy from lack of use.

The young woman dropped to her knees in a deep bow and Rebekah shot up from the bed in surprise. She stumbled backward slightly in the process, knocking into the table beside the bed.

"I beg your forgiveness, and your blessing. I am but a humble servant," the girl intoned, her voice laced with something that Rebekah could only identify as fear.

 _"Maker's breath! What the is going on here?"_ Rebekah thought, her brows knitting with confusion. "Please, there's no need..."

"They say you saved us, my lady. The Breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand," the elf explained. "It's all anyone has talked about for the last three days."

Rebekah had heard as much from Solas one night, when she had awoken to find him perched next to her, his nose stuffed in a book. However, that foreknowledge did not prepare her for how the people would react to her presence.

"I'm certain Lady Cassandra will want to know you've awakened," the elf cried out to herself, standing abruptly and backing towards the door. "She said 'at once.'"

"Can you tell me where she is?" Rebekah asked, feeling dismayed by how the elven woman was acting. _Is everyone going to behave this way around me? She acts as if I'll hurt her._

"In the Chantry," she replied, her hand reaching behind her for the door handle. "'At once,' she said." With that, the woman rushed back outside, slamming the door behind her.

Rebekah shook her head, a weight settling over her that made it harder to breathe. She didn't want to leave that the hut.She didn't want to see those people who now called her the "Herald of Andraste."

Solas had told her about it briefly, praising her for the good work she had done with the rift. Where she had once been a prisoner, believed to have destroyed the Conclave, she was now a savior who had stopped the spread of the Breach.

She was still pacing and wringing her hands when a knock came to her door.

"Come in!" She called, and the door creaked open to reveal Leliana.

"Forgive me, I can come back later if you like," Leliana began, gesturing to Rebekah. It was only then that Rebekah realized she was pacing around in her nightclothes.

"My apologies, I didn't quite notice." Rebekah replied with a sigh, gesturing at the thin cotton gown before plopping back down on the edge of the bed. "How did I even get in this?"

"One of the healers, I suppose," Leliana replied, taking a seat on the stool across the room. "I was sent by Cassandra to retrieve you. Your presence has been requested at the Chantry."

"So I heard," Rebekah said, without explanation.

"Here," Leliana turned behind her to grab a bundle of clothing that had been resting on the desk. "I had Seggrit prepare some new clothes for you." She stood from the stool and placed the bundle beside Rebekah. The Cousland kerchief that Rebekah normally had tied to cover the burns on her wrist rested on the top of the pile.

"I hadn't even realized it was gone," Rebekah said, more to herself than Leliana, as her fingers traced the Cousland heraldry.

"It must be very important to you, to have kept it for so long," Leliana replied.

Rebekah rose her head slowly to find Leliana giving her a knowing look. "I wondered if you would even remember me, had I mentioned it."

Leliana nodded, smiling slightly. "Maybe not at first glance, but when they brought you into the dungeons they had me check for anything that would identify who you were. At first I was confused when I found it tied around your wrist. 'Why would she have this? How is she tied to the Couslands?' And then a memory began to take shape. A memory of a badly injured young girl at the Circle and the Hero of Ferelden applying a poultice to her kerchief to tie around the girl's wrist."

"It seems like such a long time ago," Rebekah said, fingering the frayed edges of the kerchief.

"It does," Leliana agreed. Then, after a brief moment of silence, "I never asked your name then."

"Rebekah," she replied, meeting Leliana's kind blue eyes.

Leliana inclined her head in greeting. "Well, we best not keep Cassandra waiting. I will wait outside while you dress. We can walk to the Chantry together." With one last small smile, Leliana walked back outside into the light snow fall.

* * *

The walk to the Chantry had been every bit as terrifying as Rebekah had expected. Where hostility had been before, now there was complete adoration. People bowed and curtsied as she passed, her new title only a whisper. Herald of Andraste.

Rebekah had quickened her pace in order to escape those whispers and without a word, Leliana mirrored her.

"Does it unsettle you?" Leliana asked as the Chantry doors closed behind them.

"It feels so..." Rebekah trailed off, the words to explain how she felt eluding her.

"Do you not believe?" Leliana continued, coming to a halt before passing into the room where they would meet with Cassandra.

"Believe?" Rebekah inquired.

"That you have been sent by the Maker. That the mark on your hand was given to you by Him as a means to save us," Leliana explained.

The thought was so alien to Rebekah, it almost seemed comical. Her, a mage, sent by the Maker to save the world? Not a chance.

"It feels false to claim that I believe that," Rebekah replied, shaking her head. "Then again, who am I to claim that I know the Maker's plans?"

Leliana nodded, a small smile gracing her lips, "True enough." With that, Leliana's gaze returned to the closed wooden door and she took the remaining steps towards it.

Before she could move to open the door, it swung inward to reveal Cassandra glowering at the person retreating from the room. Chancellor Roderick looked just as flustered and indignant as he had when Rebekah had first encountered him. Solas had told her that the Chancellor had continually called for her transfer to Val Royeaux, despite her ability to close the rifts.

His face was fixed in a scowl that only grew deeper when he realized who was standing outside of the room. Without a word, or a second glance, he walked past Leliana and Rebekah. His rage was almost palpable.

"Good, you're here," Cassandra said, motioning for the pair to come into the room.

"You wanted to see me, Seeker Cassandra?" Rebekah asked, as she entered the room. The door squeaked shut behind her and she watched as Leliana rounded the table to stand beside Cassandra.

"Yes," Cassandra began, her hand resting on a thick book upon the table. "Tell me, are you familiar with the Inquisition of old?"

Rebekah hesitated briefly before responding.

"Yes," she replied, her brows furrowing in confusion. What a strange thing to ask. "The group was created following the Blight and eventually split into the Seekers of Truth and the Templars, but that was ages ago."

Cassandra nodded,"The Conclave was Divine Justinia's, her first hope in stemming the violence between the Mages and Templars and bringing order back to Thedas. However, it was not her only plan."

Rebekah slowly nodded, not quite sure what direction this conversation was going.

"This," Cassandra began, pointing her finger down towards the book on the table, "This was the Divine's directive to us, that we should form the Inquisition of old, should the Conclave not succeed. Just as before, the world has been thrown into chaos, and we must restore order. In order to do that, we will need your help."

Rebekah's eyes widened with shock. "Me?" She squeaked, her eyes flicking from face to face to see if this was some joke.

"Of course. You have the mark, after all," Leliana answered.

"The Breach must be closed, and we must find the person who did this and bring them to justice. We cannot achieve this without your help," Cassandra added with conviction.

"What about the Chantry?" Rebekah replied, the comprehension of what they were asking of her slowly forming. "Why aren't they... handling, this?"

"The Chantry has decided on your guilt. They continue to demand that we send you to Val Royeaux. They are completely lost without the Divine," Cassandra continued, coming around the table to stand beside Rebekah.

"They still think I'm guilty?" Rebekah said with a tone of disbelief. "Who would willingly do this to themselves?"

"I don't think you would, nor do I think you are the person behind this," Leliana replied from the far side of the room.

"Neither of us believe you are guilty," Cassandra added. "You are the only one who we know can close the rifts and the only hope we have of closing the Breach. Will you stand with us?"

Rebekah's head was spinning. She hadn't been outside of the Tower for over a decade. The journey to the Conclave was the first time that she had stepped foot in the outside world since she was a girl. She didn't have experience with people outside of those at Kinloch Hold, and had no experience with actual conflict. Now, she was being asked to take a role within this war, to step outside of her life as a meek follower of Chantry doctrine and rules and become an integral part of this revolution.

 _When has inexperience ever stopped you?_ The thought came unbidden, from a part of herself that she had forgotten long ago. _You can't leave these people. They need your help. Without you, the Breach could swallow the world._

And that was what scared Rebekah the most, what set her heart racing. If she refused, if she gave into her fears, she would be condemning the world.

"Of course," Rebekah began, her voice quiet. _"Now is not the time to be that timid Circle mage,"_ Rebekah berated herself. She cleared her throat, straightening and pushing her shoulders back. "Yes. I will stand with you and help in whatever way I can." The confidence in her voice was shaky, but it was a start.

"Good," Cassandra said with a small smile of her own, extending her hand to Rebekah.

Rebekah followed suit, grasping Cassandra's gloved hand in her own. Upon feeling Cassandra's tight grip, Rebekah flexed her fingers tighter. After one last squeeze, Cassandra released, her hand dropping to the pommel of her sword.

"We have long road ahead of us, Herald. I hope we are all ready," Cassandra continued, and Rebekah could already see her mind at work, assessing how best to proceed. "Leliana, have Josephine prepare the missives and send the ravens as soon as they are done. I would like everyone to meet back here this afternoon for a formal meeting."

With a brief nod, Leliana walked towards the door, flashing Rebekah a brief smile before exiting the room.

"Should I be back as well, for the meeting?" Rebekah asked, not quite sure what position she would hold within this order.

"Yes, of course. You have the mark. As such, you will be needed out in the field to repair any rifts that have opened. We'll need to discuss how best to proceed and where to send you first," Cassandra replied.

"I see," Rebekah could already feel her throat growing dry and instantly regretted agreeing to join. "Then I shall see you this afternoon."

Rebekah didn't wait to hear Cassandra's reply. She rushed from the room and out of the Chantry completely.

* * *

Rebekah did not want to return for the meeting later that afternoon. A majority of her day had been spent pacing in her hut, meditating in an attempt to calm her already frayed nerves, and staring out of the lone window that faced the wooden perimeter fence. The anxiety had burrowed into her and now gripped inside of her like closed fist.

Standing outside of the meeting room in the Chantry, Rebekah stood wringing her hands and listening to the muffled voices of those already inside. She could already tell by the differing tones that more than just Cassandra and Leliana waited inside.

"Deep breath, Rebekah. Take one last deep breath and then it's time to open that door!" Rebekah commanded herself. She took one deep inhale in through her nose and let it out slowly through her mouth. Then, she stretched out her hand, wrapped it around the brass doorknob, turned it, and opened the door.

The grip within her stomach tightened as she looked at the group of four assembled behind that pock-marked table. All conversation halted as she slipped into the room, gazes resting on her. What she felt as she walked into that room reminded her of the butterflies she would get as a girl when she was summoned to meet with the enchanters, as if she were just a trainee waiting to be scolded by her elders. She took another deep breath in and attempted to smile as she came to a stop opposite them.

"Ah, you must be the Herald of Andraste," the well-dressed woman said with a smile. Her heavy Antivan accent and her darker skin tone distinguished her from the others in the room.

Rebekah only nodded in response.

"I am Josephine Montilyet. A pleasure." Josephine inclined her head in greeting and Rebekah knew that sometime after this meeting she would have to ask for the woman's name again.

"You've met Commander Cullen, Leader of the Inquisition's forces," Cassandra said, continuing introductions.

"It was only for a moment on the field. I'm pleased you survived," Commander Cullen continued with a soft smile.

All of the thoughts swirling in Rebekah's mind suddenly came to a halt.

The voice of the unnamed man had seemed so familiar to her when she had encountered him in the valley, but she had never quite discovered why. Now, upon hearing the man's name, recognition clanged through her like a bell.

Cullen.

 _"No, it can't be,"_ Rebekah thought to herself, her brows furrowing. At the continued silence, the small smile that had graced Cullen's features began to retract.

"I believe you two may already know each other," Leliana broke the long silence with her words. Rebekah suddenly became aware that she had been staring fixedly at Cullen's face for far too long, and she could see him shuffling uncomfortably.

"Oh?" He asked her, confusion lacing his tone. He looked from Leliana, back to Rebekah, and Rebekah could tell that he didn't feel the same sense of familiarity she had.

"Yes, I had almost forgotten," Cassandra cut in. "You were both at Kinloch Hold."

Cullen's eyes widened slightly at the mention of the Circle and Rebekah glanced away from him, wishing she could be anywhere else. She could feel his gaze on her as he searched her features for some sign of who she was.

"I apologize," Cullen began, his voice sounding as if his thoughts were in some far off place as he searched his memories for her. "I don't remember ever meeting you."

Rebekah didn't want to respond, didn't want to remember the young Templar that had called for the Circle's annulment even after Elena Cousland had saved them.

"No need to apologize," Rebekah replied, managing to keep her tone soft. "I was a young girl when you were a Templar there. I probably look very different than how you would remember."

Cullen. She could see it now, the young Templar that she had once known within the stalwart Commander who stood before her. He had the same sandy blonde hair, though he styled it differently now. He had the same kind brown eyes. The scar on his upper lip was new, as was the confident way with which he held himself. Even with the bashful way he ran his hand over the hair at the base of his neck, she could feel that confidence ebbing from him.

"Ah, that would explain it," he said, still seemingly lost in thought.

The other women watched the exchange in silence, Cassandra looking a bit perturbed that their meeting had been derailed so quickly.

"Josephine is our ambassador and chief diplomat," Cassandra said, continuing her introduction of the people who formed the heart of the Inquisition. "And of course you know Sister Leliana."

"My position here involves a degree of…" Leliana began, before being swiftly cut off by Cassandra.

"She is our spymaster."

"Yes. Tactfully put, Cassandra," Leliana replied, lowering a playful glare at the Seeker.

Rebekah felt a bit cowed as their gazes came to rest on her again. She felt so young and inexperienced as she stood in their company. She had no titles to claim, no worldly experience, nothing to offer this Inquisition besides the mark on her hand.

"Those are some impressive titles," she said to them, clasping her hands tight behind her back to keep from fidgeting.

"We've been discussing what could be our best course of action for closing the Breach," Cassandra began, her eyes flicking to Leliana and Cullen in particular. "After gaining some insight from Solas, we have determined that we must find some way to put more power into your mark. As it stands, we don't have enough. "

"We need to cultivate the same level of magic that was required to open it," Leliana continued, locking eyes with Rebekah. "Which means we'll have to approach the rebel mages for help."

"I still disagree," Cullen spoke up, his hands resting on the pommel of his sword. "The Templars could serve just as well."

"How so?" Rebekah questioned, a little thrown off by Cullen's suggestion.

The glare he had been leveling at Leliana suddenly turned on her and Rebekah could feel herself shrinking from the gaze and for a moment wished that she hadn't spoken up at all.

"We need power, Commander. Enough magic poured into that mark…" Cassandra began before Cullen could reply.

"That amount of power could destroy us all," Cullen responded, his expression grim and his voice turning harsh. "Templars could suppress the breach, weaken it…"

"Pure speculation," Leliana replied, and Rebekah began to sense the argument that had surely been raging before she had stepped into the room.

"I was a Templar once, I know what they're capable of," Cullen growled at Leliana.

"Unfortunately, neither group will speak to us yet. The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition, and you specifically," Josephine explained, pointing her quill at Rebekah.

Rebekah recalled the conversation she'd had with Leliana and Cassandra earlier that morning and shook her head. "I still don't understand why they are so concerned with my guilt and less concerned about ensuring that the Breach is closed."

"I'm sure that you are aware of your new title," Josephine continued and Rebekah nodded, the expression on her face clearly showing how uncomfortable the moniker made her. "They have deemed it as blasphemy, and we have been named heretics for harboring you. This makes talks with either group out of the question."

Talk of what to do next continued for what felt like hours. Rebekah stood silently as Cassandra, Leliana, and Cullen bickered over whose support to seek with Josephine piping in to remind them that we still didn't have an avenue through which to speak to the mages or the Templars.

Rebekah continued to feel out of place, unsure of why she had been invited to these talks and what exactly she would be asked to do. Clearly, she was responsible for closing the rifts that had opened all over Thedas, and she would ultimately close the Breach, but that didn't make her necessary for council meetings. Surely that was what they were, the council of the Inquisition.

Then again, if they would all remain at Haven while she went off gallivanting through Thedas, it might be prudent for her to know why she was being sent where and what she should be doing once she got there.

In the presence of those great minds, Rebekah continued to feel like an inexperienced child. The more they discussed, the more she realized that she would be the ultimate decision-maker out in the field. They were in charge at Haven, but out in the world she would have to trust her own instincts to make choices and alliances that would benefit the Inquisition as a whole.

The realization of what she would truly be for them terrified her.

In the end, they came to a consensus that the decision between the mages or Templars would come later. First, they needed to gain support and Leliana had an idea of where they could start.


	4. Chapter 3

Rebekah groaned as she plopped onto a large boulder on the side of the road. She lifted her right foot, pulled the leather boot off, flipped it upside down, and began to shake it. She heard, more than saw, the small pebble as it tumbled out of her shoe and onto the dirt road.

"No wonder your feet hurt," Varric joked with a laugh, coming to stand beside her. He pulled Bianca from the holster across his back and propped it up on the boulder. "How'd you manage to get rocks in your shoes?"

Rebekah lowered a playful glare towards her companion as dropped her shoe unceremoniously onto the ground and began rotating her ankle, her fingers kneading the sore flesh of her foot.

Cassandra strolled up to them, retrieved Rebekah's boot from the ground and flipped it over to look at the sole. "There's a hole," she explained simply. "We'll need to get this repaired or purchase new ones when we get to the Crossroads."

"Between the journey to the Conclave and our current expedition, I'm not surprised," Solas piped up, coming to rest beside them, staff in hand.

They had been traveling for five days, forced to travel on foot because they lacked the horses for the journey. As they had left Haven Leliana had suggested that they find Scout Harding, who apparently had an idea of where they could acquire a supply of horses for the Inquisition moving forward.

Only Varric had openly complained about having to walk. They were tasked with travelling from Haven to a nondescript village called the Crossroads, in the Hinterlands, where scouts had reported sightings of Mother Giselle.

Mother Giselle would be their first contact in the Inquisition's efforts to ally with either the rebel mages or the Templars. She was more open-minded than many of her compatriots, having expressed a willingness to speak with the so-called Herald of Andraste. She had taken up residence at the Crossroads, about a day's ride south of Redcliff and was assisting the local healers with the wounded.

Tension between the people in the area was high. They had been had received reports at Haven of the fighting occurring not just between mages and Templars, but of both parties attacking the locals. Those who had been displaced, or sought to escape the fighting, had fled to the small village and Mother Giselle had arrived soon after the destruction of the Conclave.

Their group had heard some fighting as they had traveled the mountainous path from Haven to the Hinterlands, but had yet to join the fray. Rebekah hoped that they would make it all the way to Mother Giselle without incident.

Rebekah reached her hand out and Cassandra passed her the boot, which Rebekah pulled back on her foot. She stood and tested her weight on the shoe, pressing around to ensure that no rocks remained.

"Shall we continue?" Rebekah addressed the group. Cassandra didn't even respond, just giving a brief nod and continuing on the downward-sloping path, her sword swinging at her hip.

"Not much of a break," Varric replied, rolling his shoulders before picking Bianca back up and placing her back in the holster.

"We're almost there, I think," Rebekah responded, patting Varric on the back.

She also longed for a break. In the five days since they had left, they had spent a majority of the time walking, at Cassandra's insistence. She had argued that the more they walked each day, the earlier they would arrive at their destination. Rebekah couldn't fault her logic, but life in the tower had not prepared her for long distance traveling on foot.

By the end of day one, Rebekah had acquired large blisters on the back of both feet. By the end of day two, she had begun to feel a stinging pain around her shins. Her back, shoulders, and neck ached every moment. She could also tell that the sun had burned the pale skin of her face by how taut and dry it felt. Varric had teased her one night as they sat around the campfire, saying that she looked as red as a tomato. Rebekah vowed to search among the vendors for an aloe plant to help with the sunburn.

The journey from the tower to Haven had been less arduous. The mages and Templars had moved at a slow pace and had traveled with better gear and provisions. It had still been a miserable march, but had been leagues better than Rebekah's current experience.

Pebbles crunched beneath their shoes as they continued walking, the sun peaking overhead.

Rebekah walked quietly beside Varric and listened to the song that he hummed to himself. She nodded along to the tune, recognizing it as one of the songs that the bard frequently sang at the tavern back in Haven. She was so intently listening to Varric that she didn't notice the environment becoming completely silent, but she did notice Cassandra ahead of them coming to a complete stop. Her back stiffened, her right hand resting on the pommel of her sword.

That was when Rebekah smelled it, something burning.

Rebekah, Varric, and Solas continued down the path to the spot where Cassandra had stopped. She was listening intently, waiting for any hint of fighting on the road ahead, but they heard nothing.

"Stay alert. We don't know what is ahead of us," Cassandra spoke quietly, in an effort to keep her voice from carrying in the silence. The rest of them nodded, retrieving their weapons.

They stepped off of the path, walking into the short grass beside it in an attempt to make their approach quieter. They grouped tighter together in a diamond, Cassandra in front, Rebekah and Solas shoulder to shoulder in the middle, Varric bringing up the rear with Bianca in hand.

They continued down cautiously, scanning their surroundings. Rebekah tried to remain calm, tried to adopt the attitudes that she saw in her companions. She wanted to be as confident as Cassandra, as calm as Solas, and as stealthy as Varric. Instead, she was the one stepping on every possible twig that hid among the grass, the one breathing heavily as adrenaline raced through her body, the one with sweaty palms gripping so tightly around her staff that her knuckles had turned white.

After what felt like forever, they began to hear the sounds of fighting. Metal clanged on metal, the pop of wood burning, the cries of men and women as the battle raged.

"Inquisition soldiers!" Cassandra cried out suddenly, dropping all pretense of hiding as she pulled her sword out of its sheath. "They must be trying to protect the village. We must help! Stay on your guard and protect the Herald." Then Cassandra raced forward, pulling her shield from her back and charging for the nearest opponent.

Solas took up position behind a nearby stonewall that ran alongside the path, already preparing to launch his first spell. Varric stayed where he was, guarding Rebekah's back, bolts already flying from his crossbow.

Ahead of them, Rebekah could make out the Inquisition soldiers that Cassandra had spotted as well as what appeared to be a handful of mages and Templars. Two huts burned, mere husks of what they had once been, and fiery wooden planks littered the field of battle.

"Come on, kid," Varric shouted at her, jolting Rebekah out of her thoughts. "We need you too."

"Right," she muttered more to herself, staring down at her sweaty palms gripped around her staff before lifting her gaze to the enemy.

_"I've never had to use magic against people,"_  she thought to herself as she rallied her magic. She could feel the familiar stirring within her as her magic rose to her call, sparks of lightning arced along her staff.

Rebekah watched, frozen, as the enemy rushed to engage Cassandra and the other Inquisition soldiers. Her magic pulsed within her, waiting for the spell that would release the energy that slowly began to build.

She watched as swords sliced into flesh, the metal shining with the wet red of blood. She watched as men and women writhed in pain, lightning like her own skipping along their skin. She watched as enemy and ally alike fell to the ground, wounded or dead. And still, despite what she was witnessing, she could not bring herself to move.

"Herald!" she heard Solas shout, the voice sounding far away. She looked to her right, watched as he fired another volley of spells towards a Templar rushing towards their position.

Rebekah felt her stomach tighten and she gripped her staff harder. Despite Solas's efforts, the Templar did not stop; he stomped determinedly through the grass towards her and Varric. Varric, behind her, sent bolt after bolt towards the man, but they all glanced harmlessly off of the massive tower shield.

Without a second thought, Rebekah summoned her magic. Blistering cold settled over her and she became coated in a blue glow. She turned, took a step forward and allowed her magic to wrap around her. She stepped through the fade and flew away from the battlefield and back to the path they had abandoned.

It wasn't until she looked around her that she realized what a stupid decision she had made. While she had been moderately hidden among the trees, now she stood out in the open with nothing, and no one, to guard her from an attack.

Swear words flew through her mind as she tried to decide what to do.

She couldn't run back to where she had been, she couldn't run forward toward the center of the fight, and she couldn't run back and leave her companions without her.

"As if you've been making much of a difference. You haven't even been able to fire off a single spell," she berated herself. The longer she stood in the open alone, the more her fear mounted.

"Do something," she whispered fervently to herself, tightening her hands around staff as she fought her fear. She took one harsh exhale through the mouth before charging forward and into the fray.

She could see that several Templars were still engaged in battle with the Inquisition soldiers. Cassandra was far ahead of her, her sword clashing with the Templars dagger and longsword.

Closer to her, Rebekah caught sight of an Inquisition soldier being bombarded with blows, his opponent hacking aggressively with his great sword.

"Him," Rebekah thought to herself, selecting her target.

She grasped at the magic that swirled just within reach; the magic shuttered out of her in a burst, several balls of lightning crackling as they surged towards the undefended back of the Templar.

The balls of purple energy undulated and dipped through the air before finding the target.

The man stiffened, his arms froze in place with the shock.

The pause gave the Inquisition soldier enough time to slide his sword up to the unguarded skin of the Templars neck, severing the artery.

The Templar went down in a heap.

Rebekah shook, a mix of pride and shame swirling in her heart.

She registered movement out of the corner of her eye and suddenly her fear returned as she saw the same Templar with the tower shield surge towards her. She braced herself, calling up a barrier, but knew that it wouldn't do much to stop him.

She heard a thunk and the Templar stopped in his tracks before tipping forward, a crossbow bolt jutted from his back.

"Where did you go running off to?" she heard Varric calling to her, and she lifted her eyes from the Templar to see him jogging over, Bianca still gripped in his hands. He had an angry red imprint across his face and his brow had been split, blood poured down the side of his face.

She heard the parting of air before she saw the arrow.

She saw the shaft sticking out of her shoulder before she felt the pain.

She saw Varric's eyes widen. "Get down," he shouted, and Rebekah immediately dropped to the ground, a second arrow whizzing over her.

"Find the archer!" she heard Cassandra shouting.

Varric rushed past the remaining distance between them and gripped Rebekah's injured shoulder to assess the damage. "You'll be fine," he kept muttering to himself. Rebekah hoped that he was right.

* * *

"Maker's breath, just pull it out already," Rebekah yelled at Solas, the pain from her shoulder making it difficult to keep quiet.

"As you wish," he replied. He brought his staff up, using the blade to saw the arrow in half. Black spots danced in Rebekah's vision and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out.

Once the arrow was split, Solas slowly pulled it out.

"Fuckin' Maker," Rebekah cursed, her Denerim accent coming out.

"You've got some mouth on you, Herald," Varric joked, hoping some levity would help improve the situation. Solas had already tended to his wounds.

"I've heard enough from you for one day, Varric," Cassandra retorted, rounding on him, her hands clenched into fists. "You were specifically instructed to guard her, how exactly did she end up out in the open, undefended?"

"Don't point the finger at me, Seeker. She ran off," Varric replied calmly. "Not that I blame her, she was scared. Did you ever think to ask her if she had experience in a fight before sending her out here?"

"Please, stop arguing," Rebekah said through clenched teeth as Solas gingerly pulled her arm through her sleeve, exposing the pale white skin and the puckered red skin around her wound. His hands began to glow a very faint blue, pulsing with healing magic. When the aura came into contact with her skin, the pain began to subside and she sighed in relief.

"Ugh," Cassandra huffed, throwing her hands in the air.

"He's right," Rebekah began, looking up apologetically at Cassandra. "I was scared so I ran. The fault is mine."

"Then I am as much as fault as you are," Cassandra sighed, her gray eyes meeting Rebekah's blue ones. "I should not have assumed that you were trained to fight. We'll need to arrange something, some training with the soldiers once we return to Haven. Until then, you'll train with me once a day. We will make sure that this doesn't happen again."

"I'm sorry," Rebekah said to them all, lowering her head in shame.

"Don't sweat it, kid," Varric replied with a soft smile, with a familiar sympathetic look.

Rebekah didn't tell them how frustrated she felt at her own helplessness. Out of the dozen enemies they had encountered, she had only fired one spell. She knew that the blast hadn't had enough energy to kill the man, so she was thankful that the Inquisition soldier had been there to take the killing blow.

_"What am I going to do? How am I going to help anyone if I can't even protect myself?"_

"All done," Solas proclaimed, the blue glow fading away. The wound was almost completely healed. The only reminder was the faintly red skin where the tear had been. "Do be more careful next time." He rolled her shoulder gently, testing the tendons and muscles and declared her fit to continue, before standing and walking away.

The group made the rest of the journey in a heavy silence. Cassandra, ever the vigilant warrior, led the group, her stance even more rigid than before the fight.

It took roughly an hour to reach the Crossroads. They found Mother Giselle tending to the wounded in the make-shift infirmary.

"Mother Giselle?" Cassandra approached the dark-skinned woman wearing chantry robes and a rather tall hat.

The woman looked up at Cassandra, lips pursing. "Surely you are not the Herald of Andraste, Seeker. If so, then we have all been greatly misinformed."

Cassandra scoffed. "I am not the Herald."

"Then you are not the one that I agreed to speak to," Mother Giselle replied, turning back to her patient.

Cassandra turned on her heel, her gaze burning through Rebekah as she gestured her forward.

"A-apologies," Rebekah choked out as Varric nudged her forward.

Mother Giselle looked up again, and Rebekah could see that she was smiling. "You are the Herald of Andraste then?"

"I-I am, though I don't prefer do go by that name," Rebekah responded, wringing her hands.

"Do you not believe?" Mother Giselle asked, and Rebekah was reminded of the similar conversation she'd had with Leliana.

"I don't know what I believe," Rebekah replied truthfully.

Mother Giselle nodded, turning to face Rebekah fully. "But, I did not ask you here simply to discuss the events that brought you here."

"Why am I here?" Rebekah asked, truly puzzled. Leliana had not explained why she believed that Mother Giselle would be the first step in recruiting allies, just that she could be.

"I know of the Chantry's denouncement and I am familiar with those behind it," Mother Giselle explained, motioning for Rebekah to follow her as she walked towards the edge of the plateau that overlooked the village. "I won't lie to you, some of them are grandstanding, hoping to increase their chances of becoming the new Divine. Some are simply terrified. So many good people senselessly taken from us."

"It is difficult to truly comprehend how many were lost," Rebekah agreed, her memories drifting to the faces of the mages from Kinloch Hold who had traveled to the conclave with her. "I never even had time to mourn them," she thought to herself as a brief silence settled between them.

"Fear makes us desperate, but hopefully not beyond reason," Mother Giselle continued. "Go to them, convince the remaining clerics that you are no demon to be feared. They have heard only frightful tales of you. Give them something else to believe."

Rebekah took a step back in surprise. She had been hoping for something simple, that Mother Giselle would be able to act as a liaison between the Inquisition and their potential allies. She had not been expecting her to suggest that they address the Chantry's rumors of her. "They want my head, Mother Giselle. I doubt that they will be assuaged simply by me appealing to them."

"If I thought you incapable, I wouldn't suggest it," Mother Giselle replied, her expression limned with hope.

"You just met me, how is it that you already have a measure of what I'm capable of?" Rebekah countered, the words slipping from her mouth before she could think them through. She could see Mother Giselle's attitude towards her changing and she knew that she needed to salvage this conversation. "Will they even listen?"

"Let me put it this way. You needn't convince them. You just need some of them to...doubt," Mother Giselle's lips quirked up a little at the sides and for a moment Rebekah wondered how Mother Giselle had come to join the Chantry. "Their power is their unified voice. Take that from them and you'll receive the time you need."

_"She doesn't mean for you to win the Chantry over,"_  Rebekah realized.  _"She's hoping that if they fight among themselves, they'll be too busy with each other to keep you from reaching the mages and Templars."_

"Thank you," Rebekah said, fighting the urge to grin at the cleric.

"I honestly don't know if you've been touched by fate or sent to help us," Mother Giselle began.

_"That makes two of us,"_  Rebekah thought to herself, actively trying to keep her face neutral.

"But I hope," Mother Giselle continued. "Hope is what we need now. The people will listen to your rallying call as they will listen to no other. You could build the Inquisition into a force that could deliver us. Or destroy us."

Mother Giselle paused to give Rebekah time to think on what had been said. Rebekah hoped that she could be a part of an Inquisition that saved the people, that stood as a symbol of good and justice in this chaotic world. She had her doubts, of course, but she hoped, just like Mother Giselle.

"I will go to Haven and provide Sister Leliana the names of those in the Chantry who will be amenable to a gathering. It is not much, but I will do whatever I can," Mother Giselle inclined her head to Rebekah, slipped her hands into the large sleeves of her chantry robes and strode back over to the many wounded who lay on cots behind them.

Varric walked over to her as Mother Giselle departed, Solas and Cassandra were nowhere to be found. "So what's the plan?"

"We need to go back and confer with the others, but after that? Val Royeaux."

* * *

That night, they camped with the scouts that Leliana had sent to protect the Crossroads.

Rebekah finally had the pleasure of meeting Scout Harding, one of Leliana's top operatives, and found that she liked the mix of business and sarcasm that the dwarf relied on when speaking to her and her companions. Harding gave them the location of a Master Dennet, the horse master who supplied mounts for the soldiers of Redcliff.

Harding hadn't been sure whether the fighting had reached him, or whether he was even alive, but asserted that he was the best supplier of horses in Ferelden. Rebekah had promised to check it out before returning to Haven.

Rebekah sat on one of the logs, staring blankly at the fire as the day's events swirled through her mind.

She didn't even hear Varric approach from behind. "He-,"

"Maker!" Rebekah cried out shrilly, jumping up from the log and whirling around to find Varric standing behind her.

He chuckled, "Sorry Snowflake, didn't mean to scare you." He came around to sit on the log next to hers.

"Snowflake?" Rebekah asked as she took her seat.

"Nicknames are kind of my thing," Varric explained with a toothy grin. "Seeker, Chuckles, Curly, and now Snowflake," he finished with a gesture towards her.

"But why Snowflake?"

"Well, I know you use lightning magic too, but I know ice magic is more your style. Plus, you're pale as snow. So, snowflake," he finished, his tone indicating that he was proud of himself for thinking of it.

"Uh huh," Rebekah replied, unconvinced.

They sat in silence for a few moments, the firewood crackling in front of them.

"So," Varric began. "You wanna to talk about it?"

Rebekah tensed, knowing what he meant, but still said "Talk about what?"

"You freezing in that fight," he finished simply.

Rebekah let out a huff, refusing to turn and meet his gaze knowing that she would find the same sympathetic look he always showed her. "I've never been in a fight," she said dumbly.

"I know that, but that's not all of it," Varric countered. Rebekah shook her head.

"You're too observant, you know that?" Rebekah replied, shifting uncomfortably.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but you know this won't be the only fight we're in. This is a war. I don't want to see you get hurt." At that, Rebekah did turn to look at him and saw that he was looking off, past the fire, thinking of something the past.

Rebekah had never needed to talk about it, but she found herself wanting to. She took a deep breath and faced the fire again. "I've only used my magic against another person once. It was a long time ago, back during the Blight when one of the enchanters rebelled and took over the tower."

She saw Varric turn towards her out of the corner of her eye, knew he was watching her body language, her facial features, as she spoke.

"I was stuck between the rebels and a barrier that kept people out of the antechamber where the other survivors were. One of the enchanters, my mentor, found me. She tried to get me to safety, but we were found by Uldred. She tried to fight him, but she had just been through her Harrowing and she wasn't strong enough to fight him. She told me to run, but I was frozen to the spot. He turned her into an abomination right in front of me," Rebekah could feel her eyes welling up at the memory of Carina Amell, thrashing in pain as Uldred unleashed his blood magic on her.

"When he was done, he sent her after me. I was young, not very well trained, but I used my magic against her. I don't know if I wounded her enough to kill her, I ran before I could find out, but I always felt guilty for turning on her."

"She was an abomination," Varric countered, but Rebekah shook her head, said "I know," and continued.

"After that, I struggled with my magic. Primal magic has always been utilized on the battlefield, wielded as an offensive magic, meant to kill, but it requires a level of intent. The intention behind the spell effects how damaging it can be. Against demons I don't have a problem, but against people? I vowed after the uprising never to use my magic to bring harm to another person. In that moment, staring at those Templars and mages, I couldn't bring myself to hurt them," Rebekah finally turned to him and instead of seeing sympathy, she saw understanding.

"There's nothing wrong with that, Snowflake," he began, reaching across the distance between them to put his hand on her knee.

"How do you do it?" she asked quietly, wiping at the few tears that had escaped.

"Kill people?" he asked and Rebekah nodded. "I only kill when I need to and in my experience, that's only when I'm trying to protect someone. Today, I killed to protect my comrades. We killed to protect each other and the people in that village."

Rebekah met his eyes, seeing the flash of sadness in his eyes for only a moment. "One day, and I hope it's not soon, you may have to do the same."

Rebekah had thought as much, knew that the role she had in this war would require her to one day kill another. "What do you do afterwards?"

"You live. You survive," he replied simply.

"I hope I'm strong enough to do that," Rebekah said.

"You will be," Cassandra's voice called out from the darkness. Rebekah heard the tent rustling and Cassandra emerged into the firelight.

"Now Seeker, were you eavesdropping?" Varric cooed, his serious face splitting into another grin as he slowly rounded to look at Cassandra.

"I was not," Cassandra stated indignantly and Rebekah betted that she was blushing.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you it was rude to eavesdrop?" Varric continued.

The back and forth between the two went on for a while and Rebekah smiled, becoming accustomed to the banter that usually happened among her companions. After a time, she stood up from her seat quietly and retreated to her tent.


End file.
